Dance!

Let us dance!

In the INFINITIVE MOOD we have only two tenses, the present and the past. Thus, Present-To dance.

Past-To have danced.

In the CONDITIONAL MOOD there are three, the present and two past tenses. Thus, (Imperfect) present-I may go if I behave well.

Imperfect past-He looked to see if I were behaving well.

Perfect past-He promised to take me if I behaved well.

The tenses of the PARTICIPLES are easy to understand. Here are examples of the two principal ones:

Present-Loving.
Past-Loved.

L. Now shall I make a list of the tenses in each mood?

P. No, I will make it for you, and will give you something to do as an exercise.

INDICATIVE MOOD.

1. Imperfect present tense.
2. Imperfect past tense.
3. Imperfect future tense.
4. Perfect past tense.
5. Pluperfect past tense.
6. Perfect future tense.

IMPERATIVE MOOD. 1. Present tense.

POTENTIAL MOOD.

1. Present tense.
{ 2. Imperfect tense.
3. Perfect tense.
4. Pluperfect tense.
CONDITIONAL MOOD.

1. Present tense.
2. Imperfect tense.
3. Perfect tense.

INFINITIVE MOOD.

1. Present tense.
2. Past tense.

You may now take the six following verbs and express each verb in the different tenses of each mood:-To sing, to dance, to eat, to jump, to love, to praise.

I will begin the first verb, that you may see what I mean. INDICATIVE MOOD.

Present tense-I sing. Imperfect past tense-I was singing. Imperfect future tense-Ishall

sing.

Perfect past tense-I have

sung.

Pluperfect past tense-I had

3rd Week.

Moral Lesson.

L. WHAT did Oberon say, papa, to the prince and the poet when they reached the palace?

P. He was, no doubt, very glad to see them, for he asked them in, and gave them a great feast fit for an emperor, so that the prince forgot his anger at the injuries of the boatman. Then he led them through his own estates, which were quite as fine as those of the prince. They had surveyed all the beautiful grounds, and were returning by another road to the palace, when they passed a thick grove, within which were a crowd of people. Suddenly they heard the voice of a man inside praying loudly for mercy; so they stopped.

"This," said the Emperor of the Fairies, "is our Court of Justice, and yonder is one of my ministers of state, the chief judge, who is trying a prisoner." "But, please stop a minute longer," said the poet.

"Listen!" said Oberon; "that is the prisoner's voice! We cannot see him for the crowd. Let us remain outside."

"Pray, hear me again!" said the prisoner; "hear me! Those who have accused me are the old felons-the wood-demons.

They have disguised themselves as good fairies, that you may believe their word; but my word is worth more than theirs, though I have no witnesses.

"The truth is," he continued, "that as I was rowing the two mortals, one insulted me, and called me a thief. I am an old and honest man, and I did not like to be insulted; so I left them, and jumped into the lake; and that's the truth."

"So it is," whispered the poet, who was listening very earnestly; for he knew directly that the old boatman of the lake was speaking.

"As for the story of my breaking the head of one, and throwing water over the other, I did nothing of the sort. I only jumped at once into the water."

However, the fairies who had accused the prisoner persisted in their account; they said that he knocked one of the mortals with the oar from one side of the boat to the other, and "banged him about on the head."

"That's an exaggeration," whispered the poet.

"Enough," said the judge; "I must pass sentence. By your own confession you left

the mortals in the middle of the lake; and broke the laws of Oberon, by which all good fairies are to suffer, and".

But the old man could not bear this; he fell on his knees with a shriek; he had never been disgraced in his life; and he cried aloud for help.

The poet's eyes filled with tears at this sound. Without asking permission, he broke through the crowd of fairies, and rushed towards the prisoner. When he saw the noble-looking old man on the ground, his soul was filled with sorrow; the tears came in his eyes, and he ran and lifted him up.

Oberon and the prince followed; but, at the sight of the former, the fairies who had accused the boatman uttered a strange, sharp cry, and flew away; for in a moment they were changed, by the emperor's superior power, to their proper shape, and showed what sort of characters they were.

But the emperor did not notice them; he was too busy watching the poet. He counted the tears that rolled down his cheeks for the poor man's sake. Counted them? Ah, and he resolved to have them too! He would not let them drop to the ground. In an instant they were collected by certain invisible fairies, were enclosed in a crystal vessel, and were labelled "Tears of COMPASSION."

"Look at him," said the poet, as he brought the boatman forward to the emperor; "he looks like an honest man! Do you think he would tell an untruth?"

"But," said the prince, "I heard him declare that he did not splash me with water; now look at my velvet coat, and see the stains."

"Then you forget, dear cousin," said the poet, "that the old man did not see that he had done it. It happened after he had jumped into the water."

"He did not see! but he knew all about it, no doubt. Of course he did. Do you mean to say that when he upset that oar on your head he did not do it on purpose?"

"Indeed I don't think he did. There is no more reason to suppose that he did than he did not."

"That," said the prince, "is because you have not seen so much of the world as I have. I used to excuse people in that way once, but I know better now. I have seen too many bad tricks."

But now Oberon spoke. He took the part of the poet. "Indeed, friend, you have seen too much evil, if it has made you more ready to suppose a man guilty than innocent."

No, sir, it is not fair to think so of this old servant," said the poet once more. "There is no more reason to suppose that he did mean to hurt me than that he did not. It looked exactly like an accident, and I would rather believe it to be so."

Di

Then there came a pleasant smile over Oberon's face. rectly, his invisible fairies were at work again. They were busy writing the poet's last words in a large book; and underneath

P. But the prince himself was not pleased that the boatman should escape so. And the judge, too, who was going to condemn him, he said that he ought to be punished for not serving his master faithfully. "His wages," he said, "are paid him for rowing his master's guests across the lake; and if they treated him badly he should have made complaint to"

"Who dares say I treated him badly?" said the prince, coming forward with an angry look.

But the ushers of the court cried "Silence!" and begged that the mortal would not interrupt the judge.

"-should have made complaint to the authorities," continued the judge. "But to leave his master's guests in the middle of the lake was, to say the least, dangerous. Had they been unable to row, or to manage the boat, they might have been drowned. Therefore there is no reason why sentence should not be passed on the prisoner."

Then the poet begged permission to speak to the judge. "That, sir," he said, humbly, "is certainly justice; but there is something better than justice which may do him more good."

And the poet looked very eloquent, and earnest, when he

said these words. Then he stopped; his eye brightened, as though a new thought had come to him. Then he spoke to the judge again.

"Indeed, sir, he has almost a right to mercy. 'Mercy' is the 'justice' which a man should have when he has not offended before." And, had the poet remembered, he might have shown this to them by the words of Jesus, who said, that when our "brother offends against us we ought to forgive him seventy times seven."

The people, however, were much pleased with what the poet had said, and Oberon was the most pleased of all. He said, "The offence has not only been committed against me, but against the two mortals; if they are willing to pardon him, I have no objection to do so."

Then the poet did not wait to hear the answer of the prince; he eagerly took the boatman's hand. My honest-looking old friend," he exclaimed, "the good name you have kept for so many years shall not be disgraced for the sake of a scratch on my head. I would forgive you if you had hurt me seven times as much."

As soon as the poet said these words, they also were written by the invisible fairies in their book. They seemed to think them great treasures; and they wrote underneath them "Words of MERCY."

When the prince saw how every one approved of these words, he did not refuse to forgive the man also; and the

great crowd of fairies broke up with joy.

But of all who felt joy, there were none so glad as the boatman. The poet stood watching his delight with eager eyes; and, when the old man came up to him and poured forth words of thanks, he seemed to drink them all in, as though they were food for his soul. "Come," said the prince, as his cousin still waited, 66 you see that Oberon has gone on." "But," said the poet, was it not worth waiting for, to enjoy that old man's delight?" "I don't see what you are enjoying," said the prince. "I am accustomed to enjoy my own pleasures-not those of others."

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"Then you do not know yet what are the greatest enjoyments," said the poet. "Every word that the old man spoke did me good. His release has been as great a joy to me as to himself. I feel more refreshed than if I had had the richest feast; but mind! Stop!" he said, as he held back his cousin's leg.

"What is the matter?" said his cousin.

"See, you very nearly trod on the insect near your foot;" and he took up the insect, which both he and the prince found to be of a curious kind-such as they had not seen in their world. They both felt pleasure in examining it, but the poet was most pleased when he saw the delight which it showed when it was allowed to fly away. "I suppose you enjoyed the pleasure which that ugly insect

Then once more the invisible fairies found work to do. They copied these words of the poet also, and wrote beneath them, "Words of LOVE."

But Oberon, who had been waiting all this time, and had been watching them more earnestly than they were aware of, came up, and bade them make haste, as they must leave his lands before the rising of the sun.

They were, however, stopped once more on their way. While Oberon and the prince were talking, they missed the poet, and found that he was a long way behind, standing still, watching some children at play.

"Ah!" said Oberon to the prince, "is not that a refreshing sight? How heartily the little ones enjoy themselves! Listen to their musical laugh! Look at these two elder children sitting on a stone near us. They are orphans, a brother and sister, whom I saved from starvation. Do you see the joy and pride on the sister's face as she strokes back her brother's hair from his forehead? See, too, how tenderly he seems to love her! But you do not appear to notice them! Cannot you enjoy their delight? Do